It seems like every fall there’s another movie that exudes grandeur. The kind of movie that’s just screaming Oscar. It’s got an incredibly talented cast and spews rage and fury while making critics stand up and applaud when the credits roll. Everyone around the office talks about it and how it was sooooo good.

But who really gives a shit? Really? It just made me think of a party that everyone is talking about going to for about a week before it goes down. You going to so and so’s party? You going to so and so’s party? What’s His Face is going, What’s Her Face is going. I heard Whosits is going. And you don’t really want to go. You just know you’re not going to be in the mood. You don’t feel like it, man. You can think of something better to do, after all. And then you decide not to go and that’s it. You feel better and you go on about your day.

Then the day of the party comes. You didn’t work and you sat around your place all day. You’re bored to tears. You might get a few phone calls asking if you’re going and you’re not so sure you don’t want to go. But you don’t let on that you’re probably going to show up because you’ve made it abundantly clear that you’re probably not going to be there. You’re told several times it’s going to be a good time, dude. Gonna be a blast, man.

After a few episodes of “Sanford and Son” you realize that you’re going to kill someone if you sit in front of the TV any longer and what the hell else are you going to do? You decide to go. But you don’t go too early because you just don’t do that. Everyone’s getting together around 9 so you show at 10:30. And what’s happening when you get there? Sean Penn’s giving another trying too hard performance and everyone’s drinking cheap beer and playing cards. No chicks are around except for Kate Winslet, who looks really bored in a grossly underused role. Oh, and because it’s the one guy’s house, Anthony Hopkins the divorced dad is hanging out, telling bad jokes from the lumber yard and trying to get everyone to do a dozen shots with him. Of course when they kick in he gets ornery. “When’s the poon showing up?” he asks. No, we haven’t been here before.

From there it’s all downhill, as if it ever led up to anything. That’s what you get with All the King’s Men. Same shit, different year. Sure, it probably would’ve been better if you decided to hunker down with The Old Man. But we all know where the night will end if you go down that path—closing some old man dive bar. All The Old Man wants is some tail and no one’s going home until he gets it. And he’s not getting it.